Tea, Sex and Suspicious Flatmates
by dayofthedetective
Summary: A young Sherlock Holmes has just moved into Baker Street, and Martha Hudson can't help but think of all the fun that they could have together. But will her sexy plans be thwarted by his new flatmate, a dodgy hip and his oblivious and asexual character? Rated M for later chapters. Just a bit of fun really. Reviews are welcome. Enjoy!


**Hello my Holmies! Before you read this I would like to thank Elvensdork27 and Madeverett for daring me to do this fic. It has proven to be a lot of fun. Remember that all reviews are welcome and I do hope that you enjoy it. I certainly enjoyed writing it. I will try and update soon with more of Martha's mishaps. Smut in the end chapter. Thanks and enjoy! - Yasmin :) xx**

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"Would like me to show you to your bedroom?" Martha Hudson asked as Sherlock lay down the last of the boxes and flopped down onto the sofa next to him.

"Let….. me get….my….. breath… back," He winced out running his hand through his heavenly chocolate curls. His appearance was slightly dishevelled, to say the least, and Martha Hudson couldn't help but notice. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, landing on hid prominent cheekbones. His perfectly tailored shirt had become damp as a result of the summer heat, causing Sherlock to undo a few buttons. The outline of his collarbone was exposed and the now plunging neckline showed a generous view of his firm chest. The sight made Martha's heart flutter and eye widen. A burning desire began to erupt from somewhere deep and dark within her. Although revealing, his attire still left her mind to wonder what would be revealed with his shirt even less intact.

"_Oh the mind races_," she thought as she set down the tray of tea and biscuits; she had prepared it as Sherlock did all of the heavy lifting. Offering to make tea not only made her seem hospitable but it also allowed her to get a good long look at Sherlock. Young, attractive, sexy. God, was he sexy. Even though her and her husband's relationship was mainly physical, she was almost certain that if given the opportunity, Sherlock would give her a night of pleasure better than all of her other sexual encounters. He did seem a little out of practice she noticed, but you know what they say… practice makes perfect; and she was going to make sure that it was perfect.

"Oh thank you dear! You poor thing lifting those boxes in this weather! You should've charged! This is slave labour!" She giggled. "I would've helped but my hips been playing up. Getting old you see!" she joked as she tried to subtly adjust her stance into something fruity and seductive. Although she barely looked a day over 40, she knew that with these things she should play to her strengths. She must be about 30 years older than him and can't hide the fact that she old enough to be his mother so she may as well rock the "sexy older woman" allure. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and decided to undo a button of her shirt and leant forward.

"Well….. Someone had to do it. Plus, it is my stuff." He managed to puff out whilst reaching for his tea. "You might want to get someone to look at that hip. Probably nothing but you don't want it getting any worse." He advised as he sipped politely and uncomfortably. Seizing the opportunity, Hudson said "Thanks for the concern, dear. You mentioned something about studying Chemistry, didn't you? Do you mind taking a look?" She asked grabbing the fabric of her shirt eagerly and pulling it up.

"Honestly I'm not your man" "_Oh but you could be." _"I am reading Chemistry, correct, but I always found that Biology gave me too many restrictions. You see, with Biology you just read and learn. But with Chemistry you have all sorts of possibilities. Experiments, research the whole lot. I just hope that I can find a profession that lets me put it into practice." Oh she did love it when he talked Science to her. Disappointed, she put her shirt down. "_So close but yet so far." _She hadn't yet had a chance to show him her new lingerie that lay under the fabric of her purple shirt that much resembled his.

"Oh look we're matching!" She tittered in an attempt to divert his attention to blouse. It being almost see through and half done up would surely invite him to stare at her ample breasts, that through her years of exotic dancing and her own sexual experiments had been well looked after. Her hopes of a positive reaction soon died as she realised that Sherlock seemed to only reply in various pitches of grunts and hums today. The pair sat in silence all conversation, will power and interest slowly sunk into the sofa as they both did as the minutes went by. I could've been hours, who knows? Either way Sherlock seemed a little too comfortable in these conditions and Martha wanted the socially inept yet adorable Sherlock back. With the only effort that she had left she muttered, "Y'know I know this guy. Greg, his name is but people only ever call him Lestrade. He's a Detective Inspector and he's always banging on about how there are never enough people on hand to analyse his evidence. I don't know much about these things but a bright young fellow like you sounds perfect for that sort of job. I could talk to him if you wanted me to." She tilted her head to catch what little of a reaction she expected of him but was surprised to see his dreamy green (or were they blue?) eyes light up.

"Where does this man work?" He asked enthusiastically, well as enthusiastic as Sherlock got. He wasn't smiling, I don't think that anyone had seen him smile but there was definitely something bright new and zestful in his expression that got Martha going again.

"Well, I don't know where his office is, but he does seem to spend a lot of his time at St Barts." She informed him bemusedly, trying to deduce what he was thinking. Without warning, Sherlock sprung out of his seat and headed straight from the door. Before Martha realised what she was doing she found herself chasing after him and pleading "WAIT!" He stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels to face her. His face seemed to be a mixture of confusion and irritation as he clearly wanted to be out of the door as soon as possible. Finding herself speechless, Martha murmured a lame "Dinner's at 7." Before looking down at her feet.

"Oh I shouldn't imagine that I will be needing dinner this evening. I'm sure this "Lestrade" and I will busy ourselves with somewhat important matters." With that he grabbed his scarf and coat and left, slamming the door behind him. Martha sighed.

_"__Maybe if I were younger"_ she dreamed solemnly as she went to tidy up the tea that Sherlock had split in all his excitement. _No! You are Martha Louise Hudson! And you will not be tripped at the first hurdle! These things take time. I need to take on a new approach! _She sat and thought about it for a while. Then a while longer. And then a little more. Then it hit her. She never did show her new tenant to his bedroom.


End file.
